Sweep Me Off My Feet
by Prilly-N
Summary: Peeta Mellark is New York City's greatest matchmaker. Love is his job and he'll get you the girl of your dreams in just three easy dates, guaranteed! But there's a hitch. Katniss Everdeen, gossip columist at the New York Chronicle, is looking to expose the so-called 'Date Doctor' everyone is talking about. Modern AU based on the 2005 film 'Hitch'.
1. Chapter 1

**Hitch is literally one of my favourite films. I watch it whenever I need a pick-me-up. The idea for this Hitch/Hunger Games crossover came to me a few weeks ago while at work and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since!**

 **Please enjoy and remember to leave your comments. :)**  
 **I don't own The Hunger Games or Hitch.**

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

I'll let you into a little secret. Anytime, anywhere, any place; _any_ man can sweep _any_ woman off her feet. All it takes is the right broom.

No woman wakes up in the morning and thinks to herself, "I hope I _don't_ meet the future love of my life today." However in this world of cheesy pick-up lines and one night stands she may misinterpret your interest as less then genuine. How do you make yourself stand out from the common class of low-life men that hit on women without any intention of taking them past the first date? Simple; it's all about basic principles. You see, only 10% of all human communication is verbal which means that 90% of what you're saying isn't coming out of your mouth.

60% comes down to body language The way you stand, the position of your arms, where your eyes are focused all say something about the kind of guy you are and what you're interested in. A woman won't give you the time of day if you continue to stare at her chest instead of her face.

30% is your tone. Confidence speaks volumes but overconfidence is like someone shouting in your ear. It's uncomfortable and irritating and it could get you punched in the face. The trick is to believe that you are _capable_ of wooing this woman without thinking that you're _entitled_ to her.

Now she might say, "It's just not a good time for me," or my personal favourite, "I'm really into my career right now". But here's the truth; she's lying to you. What she's really saying is "Get away from me now you creep," or maybe…just maybe, "Try harder, stupid". But which one is it?

Of course she's going to lie to you. She's a nice person; she doesn't want to hurt your feelings. She doesn't even know you….yet. But luckily, just like rest of us, even a beautiful woman doesn't know what she wants until she sees it. And that's where I come in. My job is to open her eyes.

Some men seem to have a gift when it comes to with the opposite sex. They like women, women like them. But for some guys this just doesn't come naturally. Back in high school I was one of those guys. I let the perfect girl slip through my fingers and I've regretted it every day since the moment she first disappeared from my life. It was a brutal education but it's a lesson I feel obliged to pass on to my fellow man.

To most people I'm just that guy who works in consulting (whatever that means). But what they don't know is that I offer bespoke, one-on-one tutelage in the art of dating and relationships. Three dates is all I need.

My name is Peeta Mellark and I'm the Date Doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

**First chapter!  
**

* * *

She marched with purposeful determination against the flow of the crowd swarming on Sixth Avenue. She had been innocently relaxing on a beach in Hawaii, sipping colourful cocktails and minding her own business. It wasn't her fault that a particularly famous individual chose to cheat on his equally famous girlfriend right in front of her eyes. Her sister had given her strict instructions to leave her laptop and work phone at home so really she had no choice but to catch the next flight back to New York. This was big news. It couldn't wait.

Most people would be furious to have their holiday cut short on account of work commitments, but not Katniss Everdeen. She wasn't ashamed to admit that she'd become a bit of a workaholic in recent years. But where was the harm in working hard at your career? She loved her job. As a single young woman with absolutely zero commitments, besides a younger sister who insisted she could take care of herself, Katniss had no other focus. Her job was her life and that was the way she liked it.

She slid quickly through the revolving doors, stepping out of the oppressive mid-summer heat and into the cool air-conditioned lobby of the New York Chronicle headquarters. Her low kitten heels clicked against the ornate marble floor as she hurried towards the elevator, saluting Darius the day-time security guard and flashing her ID badge. She quickened her step at the sight of the elevator doors shutting.

"Wait!" She called out, skidding across the floor and wedging her elbow between the closing doors.

"In a hurry, Catnip?"

Katniss blew out a breath and crossed her arms irritably, leaning against the mirrored interior wall of the elevator. She frowned at the tall, dark-haired man sharing the small space and scowled even deeper when she noticed the look of amusement on his face.

"It's not gentlemanly to make a girl run in heels, Gale." She huffed, checking her reflection and trying in vain to smooth down her fly-away hair. Gale Hawthorne, her colleague, long-time friend and office eye candy would normally be offended at the suggestion he was anything less than the perfect gentleman. But this was Katniss. They'd known each other for years and knew how to push each others buttons. They were like brother and sister and Gale loved to wind her up.

"Heels?" He scoffed, hitting the button for the 11th floor. "I've got sneakers that would give you more height than the 'slippers' you've got on right now."

"Hey watch it! My sister bought these as a gift," She shot back. "Besides, at least I won't end up with bunions like those teetering, stiletto wearing interns. They may look great in those shoes now but I bet their feet are as gnarled as an 80 year old's."

The elevator 'binged' as it reached its destination and Gale rolled his eyes as he followed Katniss out onto the floor, staying a step behind her as she headed towards her cubicle.

"What are you doing back here anyway?" He asked, perching on the edge of her desk as she quickly tapped away at the keys to unlock her computer. "You're meant to be out of office until the middle of next week. Was Hawaii no fun by yourself?"

Ignoring his sarky remarks, Katniss clicked the mouse furiously to open up her inbox, scanning the hundreds of unread emails for the one she had sent to herself from her personal cell phone.

"Bingo," She sang triumphantly, clicking print and propelling herself in her wheeled office chair across the floor to grab the document off the machine.

"I need to get this to Abernathy," She explained, fisting the papers in her hand.

"He won't be happy to see you," Gale warned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't be so sure," Katniss replied with a mischievous grin. "When he sees what I have I'll be in line for a pretty big raise."

"We'll see about that, Sweetheart."

Haymitch Abernathy, editor of the New York Chronicle, dressed more like a homeless drunk than a man in charge of the biggest celebrity news magazine in New York. His face was as wrinkled as a used sweet wrapper and his gravelly voice betrayed his 20-a-day habit. His blunt, tactless approach had reduced many sensitive employees to tears. His bad moods were a common subject among office gossip and most people were anxious to remain in his good books by working overtime to meet his strict targets and deadlines. Unbeknownst to them, Haymitch cared little for spineless butt-kissing. The world of journalism is dog-eat-dog and Haymitch liked his employees with a like spunk and attitude. Katniss was one such individual.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, glancing behind her shoulder at Gale. "What is she doing her?"

Gale simply shrugged in response.

" _She_ works here, remember?" Katniss shot back, resting her hands on her hips defiantly.

"No you don't," Haymitch counteracted, fighting the smirk that played on his lips. "Not for another five days. You should be in Hawaii. Go back. I don't want you here."

He turned on his heel and stalked towards his office, rolling his eyes at the sound of Katniss's light footsteps following closely behind him.

"Don't you want to know what I saw on the beach?" She called out.

Haymitch sighed and turned back around. "Whatever it is I'm sure it could have waited another week."

"Really?" Katniss asked, titling her head curiously to the side. "You think photos of Oscar-winning actor Marvel Bateman cheating with a barely-legal blonde could have waited another week?"

Haymitch pursed his lips as Katniss held up the document in her hand, revealing a grainy printed copy of the aforementioned image. Ignoring the smugness on her face he beckoned for her to follow him into his office. She dropped into the seat opposite him at his desk, reclining back with a satisfied smile.

"Listen Sweetheart," Haymitch began, leaning forward on his elbows and clasping his hands together. "I can't complain about you being good at your job. I'm just a little concerned as to _why_ …"

Katniss bristled. "You don't need to be concenered with that," She replied, picking at her cuticles and averting her gaze.

"There is more to life than watching other people live it…"

"I know!" She exclaimed defensively. "It's not my fault they chose to do the dirty deed right in front of me on my beach!"

"Alright, alright," Haymitch raised his hands in surrender. "I'll drop it. I want that column on my desk by lunch but then I want you to get out and stay out until Monday, ok?"

Katniss grinned and jumped up from her seat. "Deal."

* * *

Katniss nursed her beer like a delicate flower, holding it in both hands and sipping slowly from the rim of the pint glass. She sat huddled in a velvet-covered armchair in a vacant corner of her favourite bar. **_District_ ** was well known for its selection of ales and ciders and its relaxed atmosphere. It stood apart from the hoards of new cocktail bars that lined the same street with their 'trendy' mood lighting, so-called new age music and overpriced alcopops.

In a rare night off from the hospital Katniss's baby sister Prim was coming to meet her for dinner and drinks. As a resident at the Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital Prim didn't get a lot of free time but she chose to spend every available minute with Katniss. Growing up they had been inseparable. With four years between them Katniss took her responsibilities as older sister very seriously, especially after their father died of lung cancer. Their mother was grief-stricken and practically bedbound by her depression. At the age of 11 Katniss became a carer to her mother and a parent-figure to her little sister, managing the dwindling household finances and keeping their struggle hidden from child services. Over time Mrs. Everdeen began to improve and eventually started working again but not before the relationship between herself and her eldest daughter was irreparably damaged.

Katniss didn't want to leave home or her sister. But at the age of 18 she couldn't cope any longer living under the same roof as her mother, suffocating in their tiny house. She needed to spread her wings and make a life for herself outside of their small town community. She didn't have many friends and there was definitely no boyfriend on the scene to hold her back. Not to say that a certain young man hadn't caught her eye in her teenaged years. The town baker had three sons, all of whom were popular with the girls. Something about their golden blonde hair and azure eyes had women, young and old alike, swooning and giggling behind cupped hands. The youngest son was about her age and although they never exchanged more than a few words at school Katniss felt inexplicably drawn to him. She glanced at him from across the classroom and watched his wrestling tournaments while hidden beneath the bleachers. It was a crush, pure and simple, although Katniss would never have admitted it out loud. She didn't have time for a boyfriend, not with a mentally unstable mother to take care of and a younger sister who was quickly growing out of her hand-me-downs clothes. So she kept her feelings to herself and bit her cheek when the baker's boy held hands with Grace Appleby as he walked her home and when he kissed Evelyn Harwood behind his brother's brand new Ford Ranger on prom night. Three days later she packed her belongings into her beat up Chevy and moved to New York to pursue a career as a journalist. That was how she met Gale.

"You look like you could use some company."

Katniss snapped out of her thoughts and glanced up at the intruder; an average height guy with mousey brown hair and beady eyes. She wrinkled her nose at the overpowering scent of his cologne but plastered on a polite smile.

"I'm ok," She said kindly. "I'm actually just waiting for my -" She didn't get the finish her sentence. Cologne man straddled the stool opposite her and leaned forward.

"What's a beautiful woman like you doing sitting by herself on a Saturday night?"

"I'm waiting for someone," She tried again in a slightly less friendly tone, tugging back her sleeve to look pointedly at her wrist watch. "In fact they should be here any minute."

Cologne man smiled and nodded but made no effort to leave. In fact he drew his stool closer to her, placing his hand on her arm rest, effectively blocking her escape route. "I'd like to buy you a drink."

Katniss tipped her beer glass. "Still working on this one, but thanks." She steeled herself and sat up straight. This guy wasn't getting the hint so she was going to need to be a little bit more obvious. "I understand it takes a lot of courage to walk up to a stranger and start a conversation, and this is no reflection on you but I'm just -"

"You have the most beautiful eyes," Cologne man interrupted once more.

Katniss groaned. "Thank you," She replied tersely. "Now try to listen. I appreciate you coming over here. I'm very flattered. But I'm just not interested."

Cologne man sat back, retracting his hand from her chair. Katniss felt herself relax, confident that the guy had finally got the message. But instead of leaving, he leaned towards her again, his smile replaced with a scowl as he wagged his finger in her face.

"Are you always such a callous bitch?" He hissed causing Katniss to jump in shock. "You're turning me down before you even know me. Can't you just give a guy a shot? I could be _exactly_ what you're looking for!"

Katniss opened her mouth to respond when suddenly a hand clamped down on Cologne man's shoulder.

"Maybe she's already found what she was looking for," The owner of the hand said with a calm but firm tone.

Cologne man's face paled when he turned to look at the well built man behind him. He muttered his apologies quickly and scarpered from the scene, leaving Katniss to glance up at her saviour. She knew without a moment's hesitation that she recognised him. She could never forget that mop of blonde curls and eyes the colour of a tropical lagoon. But it had been years since she'd last seen him. He was a teenager then. Now he was a man.

"Are you ok ma'am?" The handsome man asked, reaching his hand forward but stopping short of actually touching her. "I hope you don't think what I did was presumptuous. It wasn't a stunt or anything. I just thought you could use a little help getting rid of Mr Old Spice. Not that I assumed you need rescuing. I'm sure you can handle yourself…"

Katniss had to fight to find her words. "Uh, no of course not. I'm grateful actually. He was getting a little pushy."

She squinted in he dim light, trying to make sure that she hadn't been mistaken. Could it really be him after all this time? What was he doing in New York? Did he even recognise her?

"Well you're welcome," Her handsome saviour continued. "I won't take up any more of your time. Have a good evening."

As she watched him disappear into the crowd of people Katniss was suddenly able to release the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. She worried her bottom lip between her front teeth, cursing when she tasted the tang of blood. So he didn't recognise her. Well that was a slap to the face.

"Earth to Katniss!"

Katniss jumped for the third time that evening, her eyes focusing on the gently rounded face of her younger sister. Prim kissed her cheek tenderly and threw herself down into the other armchair, shaking off her jacket and flipping her long blonde hair over one shoulder.

"Are you ok?" She asked as her brows furrowed in curiosity. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Katniss shook her head in a daze. "Not a ghost exactly," She replied slowly. "Just someone from home."

Prim quirked her head. "Really? Who?"

Katniss took in a shaky breath before drawing a long sip from her beer as she deliberated over her answer. "I think I just saw Peeta Mellark."

"The baker boy you had a crush on in high school?" Prim questioned with an amused smirk, dodging the playful smack from her sister.

"I did _not_ have a crush on him," Katniss replied obstinately, twirling the end of her braid around her finger.

Prim rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Sis. So did you talk to him?"

Katniss began to bite her lip again. "Kinda…but I don't think he knew who I was."

Smiling sympathetically, Prim reached forward to grasp her sister's hand. "He probably didn't recognise you. It's a little dark in here and you look totally different compared to back in High School. He probably remembers a skinny tomboy with wild hair and dirt under her fingernails not a gorgeous sophisticated woman…"

Snorting, Katniss pulled her hand away. "Alright Little Duck, enough with the flattery. What are you after?"

Prim gasped in mock offense. "Can't a girl be nice to her big sister without being accused of having some hidden agenda?"

Katniss rolled her eyes, smirking with amusement. Prim always knew how to bring a smile to her face. "Sure Prim. Now spit it out." She noticed how Prim pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and wondered if perhaps it was a family trait or just a bad habit she'd learned from her over the years.

"I've got a date in a couple of weeks and I've already got the _perfect_ outfit but I kinda need to borrow your brown studded ankle boots…. _Pleeeease_!"

Katniss frowned. "A date?" Despite her so-called 'baby sister' being in her mid-20's Katniss deplored the idea of her dating. In her eyes Prim was still a gentle-souled, naïve little girl who needed the protection of her older sister, especially from guys looking to take advantage.

"Don't give me the dating lecture again, Katniss!" Prim moaned. "I've dated men before and I'll date again. I'm sorry that offends you so much."

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Katniss whispered softly.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm an adult know. I know how to take care of myself." Prim replied. "Besides, he's a really nice guy. He's new at the hospital and we seemed to hit it off straight away. We have a lot in common, plus he is soooo hot -"

"Ok! Ok!" Katniss exclaimed, holding her hands over her ears. "You can borrow my damn boots just please don't tell me anymore about Mr Hot Doctor!"

Prim giggled and leaned forward to press an over exaggerated kiss against Katniss's cheek. "Thanks. You really are my favourite sister."

"I'm your _only_ sister," Katniss counteracted, pretending to wipe the kiss off her cheek. "Come on. We better get going or we'll miss our dinner reservations and you know how I feel about missing out on food."

* * *

When meeting a potential client for the first time, Peeta liked to take a moment to observe. You can learn a lot from watching a person who doesn't know they're being watched. As he leant against one of the huge pillars outside the Met Museum he briefly glanced at the photo in his file. That was him alright. Finnick Odair.

His business worked on a 100% referral basis. He didn't advertise or go looking for work. The work came to him. Finnick was an acquaintance of one of Peeta's clients from about a year ago. Evidently he had come to learn of Peeta's particular set of expertise and had sought him out for help.

But as Peeta continued to watch he couldn't help but notice that Finnick didn't look like his usual style of client. He was tall and slim, well dressed, with a good head of bronze hair and impressively chiselled features. He sat on the steps of the museum tapping his shoe against the stone, drawing attention from many of the women passing by. They smiled at him and he smiled back with ease. No, Finnick Odair was definitely not his usual style of client.

Pushing off from the pillar, Peeta hopped down the steps and parked himself next to his unorthodox client.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" He remarked, extending his palm in greeting. Finnick accepted and they shook hands firmly.

"I wasn't sure you'd show up!" Finnick exclaimed, fidgeting incessantly. "I thought maybe Thresh had set me up; made up some story about a 'date doctor' to mess with me."

"Thresh was telling the truth," Peeta replied with a casual smile.

"I need you to know that I…" Finnick paused and fidgeted some more, wiping his palms on his trouser legs. "I wouldn't normally do something like this. I don't normally need…help. But man, am I desperate. I mean, not in general! But…but for her? Yeah I'm pretty desperate."

Peeta arched an eyebrow at Finnick's outburst. It wasn't uncommon for clients to feel uncomfortable during their first consultation but it was strange to hear such an honest expression of desperation.

"Relax," Peeta said calmly, resting his hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Why don't you start by telling me about her?"

Finnick blew out a shuddery breath and seemed to compose himself. "Where do I even start?" He seemed to ask himself. "Her name is Annie. She's…she's the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. When I look at her I can't even remember my own name. I've never really struggled to communicate with women but when I'm around her it's like I forget out to breathe..." He paused to rake his fingers through his hair. "She's the kind of girl that attracts a lot of male attention but from what I've seen she always seems to end up with the bad guys. Her last boyfriend for example…I read in a magazine he cheated on her with some young bimbo on a beach. I just think she deserves better than that!"

Peeta pursed his lips inquisitively and held up a hand to silence Finnick. "Wait a minute…" He began as he furrowed his brow. "You read about her break up in a magazine?" He was silent for a moment as his brain connected the dots. Then he gaped.

"Annie?" He asked. "You're talking about Annie Cresta? The supermodel?"

Finnick smiled coyly, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah…"

Peeta couldn't help it. He let out a laugh. "Finnick, I think you've overestimated my abilities. You need to actually _know_ the girl in order for me to help you."

"But I do know her!" Finnick exclaimed, wringing his hands and cracking his knuckles. "Well…sort of. The company I work for manages her finances. I see her once a month. I'm one of the tax advisers on her team of accountants."

Peeta scrubbed his face with his palm and leant back on his elbow. "You're crazy, you know that?" He quipped.

"Don't you think I know that?" Finnick responded in low spirits. "Trust me, I've tried to forget about her. I know she's out of my league. But I just though that…with your help -" He sighed. "Just…forget it. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

Peeta chewed the inside of his cheek as he watched Finnick collect up his briefcase and walk away. On the one hand he knew the guy was insane. Annie Crest was a celebrity and Finnick was accountant. They were on completely different playing fields. But on the other hand Peeta admired Finnick's boldness. It was a long shot, but Peeta could help.

"Wait," He called out, chasing after him. "Listen…I know what it's like to love someone from afar. You can't help who you fall for. You've just happened to fall for one of the biggest celebrities of our time. But I think I can help you."

"You do?" Finnick exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear.

Peeta smiled. "It won't be easy but my motto is that _any_ man can sweep _any_ woman off her feet." He held out his hand towards Finnick. "So, are you ready to work?"

With a firm shake their contract was agreed.

* * *

 **For the purpose of this story Finnick may seem a little OOC. But I can totally imagine him being a real ladies man and then turning into a bumbling idiot when he's around Annie. Love does strange things to you. ;)**

 **Please tell me what you think! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh my gosh! Thank you all for your wonderful comments about the first chapter! I really didn't expect such a positive response.**

 **I'm so happy that people like the idea so I hope I do it justice.**

 **Prepare for a bit of background on Gale in this chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

He had screwed up. There was no doubt about it. He'd screwed up and he had no idea how to recover from such a huge mistake. He'd clapped eyes on her almost immediately after entering the bar. It wasn't his usual haunt. In fact he rarely drank in bars, especially by himself. He was more of a stay at home kind of guy. But that night something had drawn him in and as soon as he saw her he wondered if perhaps such as thing as fate really did exist. Of all the bars in New York he had picked the one with Katniss Everdeen sitting in an armchair.

At first he just watched from a distance, noticing the way she curled her small hands around her pint glass as her grey eyes stared off into space. She didn't look any different. Memories of that dark braid flashed in his mind more frequently than he cared to admit; one memory more clear than any of the others. The memory of seeing that braid disappear from view as its owner fled from the parking lot after Senior Prom. He'd screwed up back then too.

Rising up from his bar stool Peeta had begun to take steps towards her but was beaten to the punch by a wiry looking guy with far too much product in his hair and cologne so strong it filled the air. So he sat and he listened as Katniss tried her best to deflect the guy's interest. Only he didn't seem to get the message. He knew for a fact that Katniss was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. He had seen it with own eyes. But something in him snapped when he heard the guy call her a 'callous bitch'. There was no way he was letting that go. So he acted on impulse. Admittedly, pretending to be her boyfriend might not have been his smartest plan but it worked like a charm and douchebag guy left without another word. That's when it all went wrong.

Katniss Everdeen looked up at him without the slightest hint of recognition. She seemed flustered but thanked him graciously for his help. A silence fell between them and Peeta felt his heart race. He could have just said it. 'Hey, don't you recognise me? It's Peeta. We went to school together.' But he didn't. Instead his brain decided to recall words from the conversation he'd been eavesdropping on.

" _I'm waiting for someone. They'll be here any minute."_

His eyes had glanced quickly at her left hand, found her ring finger bare, and concluded that she must be waiting for a date; a boyfriend maybe. So he panicked and made a run for it. Three days later he was stilling kicking himself. But now was not the right time to be focused on personal matters. He was working.

Coaching Finnick had so far been a walk in the park compared to some of his other clients. The guy knew how to dress to impress, he had natural charm and poise and he'd reacted well during role play. Thanks to Finnick's job, Peeta hadn't even had to orchestrate a meeting between him and Miss Cresta. Right now there were in the same room going over her financial accounts and as Peeta reclined in the black leather chair in Finnick's private office he wondered if this job could get any simpler.

Peeta has sent Finnick into that meeting with one objective; shock and awe. A woman like Annie Cresta would be accustomed to male attention due to her celebrity status. If Finnick wanted to grab her attention in a way no other man before him had done then he needed an edge; something unique. He was certain a confident guy like Finnick could pull that off.

As if on que, the door to Finnick's office opened and the man himself stepped in. Peeta rose from his seat, praise and congratulations ready on his lips. But something wasn't right. Finnick shut the door with a bang and collapsed against it, his face ashen, beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead.

"How did it go?" Peeta asked hesitantly.

Finnick ran a shaky hand through his bronze hair and gulped loudly. "I….I think I just quit my job."

Peeta's jaw slackened as his mouth hung open in shock. "You quit your job?!" He exclaimed. "What the hell happened in there?"

Finnick pushed away from the door and began to pace around the office, gesturing wildly as he explained what took place in the meeting. "She wanted to invest some money into a friend's business but my boss just shot her down in flames," He explained. "When I saw how disappointed she was I just…I dunno…I wanted to make an impression! Shock and awe, remember?"

Peeta groaned. "Well this is just shockingly awful…"

"I know!" Finnick lamented, collapsing into his leather chair. "I think I even yelled at her. I told her to start thinking for herself and stop taking advice from old men in suits who sit around a table discussing other people's wealth."

A knock on the door pulled both Peeta and Finnick out of their despair. "Mr Odair?" A female voice called from the other side. "Mr Odair, are you there? I need to speak with you."

Finnick's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "It's her!" He mouthed silently to Peeta, fisting his hands in his hair. "What do I do?"

"Go talk to her!" Peeta mouthed back, pushing his client towards the door. He opened it for him and hid behind it.

"Mr Odair, let me be clear," Annie began, her voice controlled but terse. "Most people wouldn't dream of talking to me in the way that you just did. I'm used to people nodding when I talk, laughing at my jokes and agreeing with my decisions."

Finnick's shoulders slumped. "Miss Cresta, I can explain-"

Annie held up her hand to silence him. "I hate those people," She continued, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "They are fake and care more about being friends with Annie Cresta the supermodel than being a true friend to me. I need more people to be honest with me the way you were, Mr Odair."

Finnick's eyes widened as Annie's words sunk in. "You mean…you're not mad at me?" His voice came out all squeaky and from behind the door Peeta had to stifle a laugh. This was not the cool, composed Finnick he had come to know.

"I'm not mad," Annie confirmed. "In fact, I was wondering if we could maybe get together later this week to go over things." She paused and Finnick gaped. "You know…financial things."

Peeta slyly tapped his foot against Finnick's leg to get him to respond. "Yes!" He exclaimed a little too loudly. Annie giggled. "Yes. Absolutely, Miss Cresta. I'll….I'll check my schedule and…call you?"

Annie pulled a round-edged card from her purse and pressed it into Finnick's shaky hand. "That's my personal number," She explained. "Give me a call and we'll set a date."

"A date…" Finnick echoed, turning the card over and over in his hand. "Yes, I'll call you to arrange a…date. Thank you, Miss Cresta."

Annie smiled with a hint of amusement. "Please, call me Annie." She said. With that she tucked her purse under her arm and headed back up the corridor.

Finnick continued to stare long after she'd disappeared from sight so Peeta had to close the door for him. "Well…" He chuckled. "That was a little unorthodox but it worked. Good job, Finnick!"

Finnick, temporarily mute, simply nodded and fell back into his chair. He laughed giddily and held the small card between two fingers, his eyes tracing over the embossed, squiggly font that spelled out Annie's phone number.

He had a date with Annie Cresta. A business date, but a date nonetheless. And he wasn't sure he'd survive it.

* * *

The morning hasn't started well for Katniss. She'd woken from a nightmare, tried and shaken up. She hadn't had a dream as bad as that for quite some time and she could only blame it on her recent interaction with a certain blonde man. Such reminders of home unfortunately only brought back bad memories of a darker time in her life.

She dressed in a hurry, forcing herself to eat a bowl of cereal before dashing from her apartment. She would be late for work today; it was inevitable.

"What time do you call this?" Gale mocked as she stalked into the office towards her cubicle which was positioned diagonally opposite her dark-haired colleague. She dumped her bag onto the desk and threw herself down into her chair, stabbing her finger at the power button on her computer.

"Not in the mood," She ground out, repositioning her dark sunglasses on her face.

To everyone else it would appear that Katniss were suffering the effects of a heavy night. But Gale had known her for nearly a decade. He knew she was attempting to hide red puffy eyes, evidence of tears. He loved to tease her, but he also knew when she needed a bit of a break. So he gently placed a mug of hot peppermint tea before her and touched her shoulder fleetingly. She wasn't the type of girl that liked physical affection so a hug was out of the question, especially in the office. A quick squeeze of her shoulder was all she would allow, and it seemed to work. She sniffed and wrapped her hands around the steaming mug of tea, shooting him a grateful smile.

Gale knew a little bit about her past. He'd met Katniss during her first week in New York and they'd connected instantly. They'd had a similar upbringing in a small town with dysfunctional families and dead fathers. Gale's father had dropped dead from a heart attack while playing football with his two younger brothers. His Momma had been in her 8th month of pregnancy. Despite her strong will and determination she had been physically incapable of taking on the kind of work that would bring in enough money to feed three growing young men plus a baby on the way. So Gale had dropped out of school in his last year to become the man of the house. He took any job he could get but found good money working in the town butchers. Apparently not everyone could stomach a job carving up dead animals, but Gale didn't mind it. He could live with smelling like blood and raw meat so long as his siblings got to eat and his Momma didn't have to take a job in the laundrette.

Moving to New York hadn't really been his decision. He was happy in his small town home. He liked the community feel and the familiar faces. But an unfortunate incident involving the Sheriffs daughter landed him in a world of trouble. Of course he wasn't guilty of the thing he'd been accused of. But the gossip that spread around town was worse than what actually happened and soon people were shunning his family at church and picking on his siblings at school. Gale knew there was only one solution. He had to leave.

He moved to a pokey little studio apartment in Brooklyn and instantly got a job as a mail room assistant at a New York magazine. More than half his pay cheque went on rent and bills. The rest he sent home to his family. After a week on the job he began to notice how the women in the office stopped typing when he walked the floor, pushing his mail cart ahead of himself. He'd attracted some female attention at home, but no Southern girl would ever dare to be as outrageously obvious as these city women. They fluttered their eyelashes and licked their lips, pushing out their chests and crossing their legs to give him a glimpse of thigh as their already short skirts rode even higher.

He never took the bait, much to the confusion of the guys in the mail room. They ribbed him tirelessly but he took it on the chin. He carried out his job each and every day without complaint. By week three he had caught the attention of the big boss, Haymitch Abernathy.

"Something different about you, boy." He'd mused as Gale handed over an urgent courier package. Haymitch tossed it onto a growing pile of papers on his desk and reclined back in his chair. "You…uh…swing for the other team?"

Gale coughed and squared his shoulders. "No sir." He replied stiffly.

"Ain't nothing wrong if you do…" Haymitch continued, cocking his head to the side.

"I'm not gay, sir." Gale repeated, straightening out his uniform.

Haymitch taped his chin thoughtfully, eyeing Gale with intense curiosity. "But you're not tempted to take any one of those lovely ladies up on their offer." It was a statement not a question. "Why is that?"

"Must be the way I was raised," Gale responded, holding his head high. His late father had taught him to treat women with the utmost respect. He also knew that a woman who put all her goods on display would never be welcome in his mother's house.

"I got a job for you, boy." Haymitch announced suddenly. "My magazine is at risk of becoming like every other journal out there; dominated by the opinions of air-headed, immature young girls who think the only way to progress in their career is to sleep with the boss. I want to give the public something different; some refreshing. And I think you're it. I want you to write for me."

"Me, sir?" Gale had been shocked and lost his cool composure. "What would I write about?" He hadn't even graduated high school. How could he write for a magazine?

Haymitch grinned. "Anything you like. Let your imagination run wild. Just keep it honest. This city needs a bit of honesty."

Later that week Gale had a new job, a new suit and his own cubicle with instructions to write a 2000 word column on current issues. And it turned out he had a lot to say. He wrote about class divides in the modern world, the decline or morality among the younger generation, the hypocrisy in politics, even terrorism. And surprisingly, peopled seemed to enjoy reading his opinions on such matters. Before long, Haymitch was receiving mail from the public with questions for Gale to answer. They wanted to hear what Gale Hawthorne thought about their problems.

With the money from his promotion Gale moved to a slightly larger apartment; this one with its own kitchen and bathroom and only a short subway ride away from work. It was in that apartment block that he met Katniss Everdeen. She had been his neighbour and he knew from the moment he saw her that she wasn't a born and bred New Yorker. He smiled at her and she scowled at him. But she thawed a little when he introduced himself and she heard his accent.

The rest, as they say, is history.

"Thanks," Katniss muttered quietly, savouring the taste of peppermint on her tongue.

"No problem," Gale replied, shaking his head to bring himself back to the present. He reached into his desk drawer, pulled out a package and tossed it onto Katniss's lap. "This came for you first thing this morning."

Katniss rested her sunglasses on her head and eyed the square box curiously. Her name was written neatly across the top and there was no stamp or return address. It had been delivered by hand. She shook it gently, listening to the contents rattle around inside.

"I don't think it's going to explode, Catnip." Gale teased. "Just open the damn thing."

Katniss shot Gale a look before ripping the top off the box and digging through the packing peanuts. She furrowed her brow in confusion as she lifted out an old fashioned walkie-talkie. Turning it over in her hand, looking for some sort of clue as to its origin, she spotted a black arrow drawn in permanent marker pointing to the call button. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, threw caution to the wind, and pressed it.

The walkie-talkie crackled loudly, drawing attention from several of Katniss's co-workers. Gale snorted and Katniss blushed, covering the speaker with her hand to stifle the noise.

"I have a confession to make," A muffled voice said and Katniss quickly uncovered the speaker again. After a short pause the voice spoke again. "I must confess that I was so shocked to see you sitting in that armchair on Saturday night, and so embarrassed by my behaviour that I left without telling you who I was. Over."

Katniss felt her heart thump in her chest. She knew that voice. Gale tapped his shoe against her chair, silently asking for her attention.

"Who's that?" He mouthed to her, his forehead creased with confusion. She shushed him irritably.

"Katniss…are you there? " The familiar voice called out.

She bit her lip, clicking her knuckles anxiously before pressing the talk button. "I'm here," She responded quickly. "Over." She may as well play the game. By now at least four of her co-workers were shamelessly listening in.

"So you may not have recognised me," The voice continued. "But we actually went to school together-"

"I knew who you were…are…Over." Katniss blurted out before she could stop herself. She cursed under her breath.

"Ahhh," The voice sounded disappointed and sheepish. "Well there goes my element of surprise."

Katniss smiled, she couldn't help herself. She could imagine Peeta's pale skin blushing with the realisation that his identity was no longer a secret.

"Well, now that you know who I am my request won't seem quite so creepy."

Did she detect a hint of nerves in his tone?

"I was wondering if I could take you to dinner this Friday. Over"

Katniss gulped and tried to shield herself from the prying eyes and ears of the office, including Gale who seemed unusually interested. "I'm working on Friday evening. Over."

Unfortunately this was the truth. She had an event to attend on Friday that she couldn't get out of. Part of her job as a gossip columnist involved keeping her eyes and ears open at media events. You never know where a story might be hiding.

"How about lunch on Saturday? Over." Peeta continued undeterred.

Gale cleared his throat behind her back and she winced, remembering her earlier promise to accompany him to a wedding. "I can't," She mumbled. "I have…plans."

She heard Peeta chuckle good-naturedly at the other end. "Breakfast on Sunday? Over." He offered.

Katniss ran through her schedule in her head and it came up clear. Sunday could actually work. "Ok." She replied shyly.

"You didn't say 'over'. Over." He said teasingly and Katniss felt the smile return to her face.

"I'm wondering when you're going to let me get back to my job. Over." She said in jest, ignoring the whispers of 'Katniss has a date' coming from her co-workers.

"Fair point," Came Peeta's gentle tone. "So I'll see you on Sunday. Meet me at 8am at 103rd Street, by the park."

The walkie-talkie beeped twice in Katniss's hand signalling that Peeta had switched his off. He hadn't given her any chance to ask further questions and her mind spun with curiosity.

"Who the hell was that?" Gale exclaimed, shaking her out of her stupor.

Katniss placed the walkie-talkie on her desk and sat up straight. "His name's Peeta. We went to school together."

Gale waited expectantly for further explanation and huffed when she gave him none. "So….you're gonna just meet up with some guy you haven't seen in years? How did he even know where you worked? And what was the walkie-talkie all about? Hasn't the guy got a cell-phone?"

Katniss rolled her eyes at Gale's incessant negativity. If she didn't know better she would have thought he was jealous.

"It's just breakfast, Gale." She said irritably. "Keep your hair on."

"I'm just sayin'," He replied with a nonchalant shrug, turning back to his own computer. "The guy seems like a bit of a stalker."

"Don't listen to him, Katniss!" One of the girls from HR called out. "That was the most romantic date proposal I've ever seen!"

Gale huffed again but Katniss blushed. A date? Could breakfast be classed as a date? She took several calming breaths and looked to her desk-top calendar. Date or not, she had four days to prepare. She was going to need Prim's help.

* * *

Still buzzing from his conversation with Katniss, Peeta counted backwards from 10 to calm himself down. He had to meet one more client today before he could call it a day. This client, Cato Jackson, had requested to meet in one of those posh restaurants that only served water in bottles and food in tiny, pretentious portions. It gave Peeta a clue as to the type of client he would be meeting; someone with money and probably an attitude.

Peeta greeted the maître d and gave them Cato's name. A waiter quickly escorted him across the restaurant to a small, secluded booth at the back. Cato Jackson stood to greet him and shook his hand firmly. He was tall, very tall, and very well built. His blonde hair was neatly styled and his suit was pressed to perfection. Peeta couldn't deny that the guy looked impressive. They took their seats across from each other.

"Thank you for meeting with me," Cato's tone was deep and business-like.

"No problem," Peeta responded, resting his hands casually on the table in front of him. "So tell me about 'her'. How did you meet?"

Cato filled his glass with San Pellegrino, offering some to Peeta and then taking a long deliberate sip. "Well…we work together," He began. "I only moved to New York about a month ago. I've just gone through a pretty messy divorce."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Peeta said sympathetically. Cato shook his head dismissively.

"It's ok. I'm over it. My ex-wife and I were a bad match from the start. I came to New York to start afresh. I wasn't planning on meeting anyone right away. But my first day in my new job I meet this amazing, beautiful, sexy woman. She's so sweet and smart; completely opposite to anyone I've ever been involved with before. And I just can't get her out of my head!" Cato sighed heavily and began to pick at the label on his bottled water. "Honestly, I don't think I'll feel complete until…until I tap that."

Peeta nearly choked on his water as his eyes widened in shock. "Excuse me?"

Cato smiled nonchalantly. "You know…bang her." He continued, as if his earlier statement needed further explanation. "Clear my head. Get in, get off, get out."

Peeta bit his tongue in disgust. He'd met men like this before, men that objectified women and only viewed them as a means to satisfy their own needs. He didn't work with men like that.

"I'm sorry…" Peeta began, pausing to compose himself. "I think you may have misunderstood what I actually do."

Cato furrowed his brow. "I was told you help guys 'get in there'."

Shaking his head, Peeta pinched the bridge of his nose to slow down the oncoming migraine that was sure to hit after this meeting. "The thing is my clients actually _like_ women…"

Cato's blank stare almost made Peeta laugh. This guy was so messed up. He began to stand up, ready to get the hell out of there, but Cato grabbed his sleeve. It almost felt like an act of desperation.

"Wait," He called, digging into his jacket pocket and pulling out a cheque book. "I have to have this girl. And I need professional help."

Peeta snorted. This guy sure as hell needed professional help, just not the kind he was thinking of.

"How much will it take for you to help me?"

Peeta narrowed his eyes and leaned down to Cato's eye level, aware that they were drawing attention from the other diners in the restaurant. "I am not willing to work with you," He hissed, feeling the anger bubbling up inside. "I'm not interested in your money or your despicable plans to take advantage of some poor woman. Now take your hands…off me."

Cato released his grip on Peeta's sleeve and Peeta smoothed out the creases harshly. Cato glared at him furiously, his fists literally shaking with rage. Turning on his heel, Peeta stalked away from him, seemlessly handing a $20 bill to the waiter on his way out to apologise for the disturbance he had caused.

He'd need a long hot shower to scrub the dirt off from that meeting.

* * *

 **So those of you who have watched the movie have probably already begun to connect the dots. ;)  
**

 **Next chapter: Katniss and Peeta's breakfast 'date' and more Annie and Finnick.**

 **I look forward to hearing what you thought of this chapter.**


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